


Climbing on Clouds

by BunnyMcHunny



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyMcHunny/pseuds/BunnyMcHunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Dean and Cas moved in together their relationship has started to deepen and Dean has troubles adapting to his developing feelings towards his flatmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wise Men Say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HunnyMcBunny](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=HunnyMcBunny).



Chapter 1 – Wise Men Say

God offers Dean and Sam to restart their lives. They will be 26 and 21 again, everybody is alive* and remembers what happened like it all had been a dream. The deal is that God has the doors to heaven and hell sealed long ago, so there are no monsters, nothing supernatural but the memory of everyone. Dean requests that Cas does come with them. 

They get back to the day when Dean and Sam would have taken off to the case of the women in white. Sam is living in Stanford with Jess whereas Dean is still living in Lawrence with his mother. They find Cas at Bobby's place. According to the records Bobby adopted him as a child and Cas is now 23 years old. When Cas decides to enroll at Stanford too, Dean offers to live with him and they decide to move there together. 

\-----

On the day they moved in it was hot and busy. After a two-days-drive from Mary's house to Dean's and Cas' new apartment they arrived in the early afternoon and brought everything inside. Bobby and Mary left as soon as the truck was unloaded. He brought her to the airport from where she flew home to Kansas while Bobby drove the way back to his estate. Dean, Sam and Cas build up their furniture while the girls equipped the kitchen with the stuff Mary had given them. When the cupboard for the living room was up the boys decide they had done enough for the day. 

Sam falls back into the armchair and sighs. “You will have to live here forever.” 

Cas who was already sitting on the couch looks at him confused. “Why?” 

“Because I hereby forbid you to ever move again. That's why”, Sam mumbles. 

Dean takes place on the couch next to Cas and leans back humming in agreement. The living room stuff had to be rearranged, the furniture for the dining area had to be set up, his clothes were still in his duffel bag, and when he looks around there are boxes and bags everywhere. He certainly doesn't know where all this stuff is coming from. He could swear that when he packed it was half of what he could see. And Cas had even less to pack than he did. 

They have been moving the whole weekend. Getting everything from his mom's house in Kansas to this flat here near Stanford together with some of Cas' boxes and the new furniture for the dining area. Dean's muscles and head ache when he thinks of all the stuff he still has to do. Tomorrow it is his last day before he would start to work in a nearby garage that is owned by an old friend of Bobby. 

“I feel old again.” he says. 

“If this is what it feels like to be old, I don't want to be old. You should have told me that it is awful.” Cas replies dryly to which Sam and Dean start chuckling. 

“Kitchen is set and ready,” Jess announces cheerfully while walking over to Sam who pulls her onto his lap. Since they got back he turns into full sunshine mode whenever Jess is around, shooting rainbows out of his hearty eyes and grinning like the most lucky man that he is. Dean hasn't seen him this happy in forever. 

“We should order pizza,” Charlie suggests while she sits down next to Dean, wiggling into the small place left. Sam fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials for his favorite delivery service. He is ordering as the girls start talking about a book Charlie had recommended to Jess. 

Dean closes his eyes and relaxes into the cushion absorbing this moment of normality and simplicity. Sitting together with friends and his brother, exhausted but strangely happy. Ordinary life with ordinary problems. No monsters. Nothing that is hunting them. Nothing supernatural. It really is a bliss. There is but one thing irritating him; a mild tingling along his right side where he can feel Cas sitting next to him. It is comparable to an itch you want to scratch. It is weird. He sighs a little.

Cas leans back next to him. “You're okay?” 

Dean hums. “Yeah, I'm good.” He turns his head to Cas, opens his eyes to looks at him with some sort of glee on his face he doesn't manage to hide. “Just kinda happy, you know?” Cas nods and smiles in response. 

\-----

When the pizza arrived, they ate clenched together at the couch and armchair corner; trading pizza slices back and forth. The main topic of the conversation was the oncoming weekend on which Charlie would do a short trip to a convention. Dean would have liked to tag along but refused to leave Cas behind in their flat when it is still so messy. It has gotten late so Charlie, Sam and Jess bid their goodbyes soon after. 

When the door closes Dean pauses in the door frame between the living room and the hallway. He just stands there wondering about this new life chapter that has just started for him. The last few weeks he had spent in his mom's house had been a gift. Dean has wallowed himself in the new found state of security. Even when they all had problems sleeping the first couple of days after they had come back, their nightmares have vanished almost completely. He had suspicions that the Lord himself had boosted this. 

He watches Cas picking up one of the boxes, putting it on the couch and starting to search for something. “What are you looking for?”, he asks while ambling back to the couch. 

Cas looks up shortly. “My study plan”, he answers. “I can't remember in which box I put it.” 

Dean falls back into the couch next to the box, still watching him. When he is about to open another box Dean interferes. “I guess it can wait 'til tomorrow, Cas.” 

Cas stops in his movements, turns his head towards Dean and sighs deeply. “Guess it can.” 

He gets back to the couch and slumps down in his old spot. They sit next to each other in silence; each hung up on their own thoughts until Dean's mind comes up with a question. 

“So have you decided on what you're going to study?” 

“Urban Study and Sociology,” Cas replied eventually. “Jess and Sam had suggested it and, well, it sounds interesting. Human behavior is still kinda new to me.” 

“In study choices you can rely on these two smart heads”, Dean approves. 

They fall silent again. It is not an uncomfortable silence; more like spending time in your own head space silence. It has been a long and exhausting day for both. Yet in Dean's book it is listed in the 'happy days' section. They had joked and laughed together with the others all day. 

Dean looks sideways to find Cas had closed his eyes. His hair was as tousled as when they met for the first time and despite the fact that Cas looks much younger now then back then it did not vary the degree of familiarity. Well, besides a minor side effect because sometimes when Dean looks at him, he got a strange, wobbly feeling in his chest – not to mention the tingling under his skin that appears when they are close. And right now, he is sitting quite close to Cas because of the box on the couch. Too close. 

When he grabs Cas knee to get up easier he almost pulls his hand back because of the strong, fizzling sensation in his fingertips that catches him by surprise. 

“Let's call it a day and go to bed.” Dean says. He swallows and notices how dry his mouth had gotten. “We'll do the rest tomorrow.” 

Cas hums in agreement but does not move. 

“Goodnight, Cas.” With this Dean steps over Cas' feet making his way to his bedroom. He honestly doesn't know why he does the next thing, maybe it is because he is exhausted, maybe because Cas looked so worn out before, maybe because it was his hand itself still lingering after the sensation from earlier – before he can think about it he reaches out and pets Cas over his head as he walks by. 

It takes him a second to deep freeze for a moment, his hand still up in the air between them. He contemplates for a moment to explain it but he couldn't come up with an explanation. He had just freaking petted Cas out of a whim. His cheeks start to burn. This is bad. 

He clears his throat, chooses not to look at his hand in betrayal or at Cas who must think that this has been some hella weird thing. On his way to his room he almost falls over a box. Great, with this combined his behavior looks now even more idiotic. He avoids getting caught by another box in front of his bedroom door and finally lets out a deep breath as he closes the door behind him. 

With his cheeks burning hot he falls down in his bed face forward. The bedding feels comfortable cold on his blood rushed skin and he lets out a quiet groan of agony. His hand twitches as he remembers how soft Cas' hair had felt. Not good. This was not good at all. 

He rolls on his back, takes of his trousers and crawls under the blanket, cheeks still slightly flushed. All in all, he looks forward to living with Cas but – sometimes he is not sure if this was a good idea. Moving in with someone that causes this strange tingling, that lets him act out of character. He had caught himself more than one time watching Cas, looking in his eyes for too long almost as if … 

Dean pulls the blanket tighter. No, it is not like that. Not at all. He doesn't need anything of this at the moment. He is satisfied with his life as it is. He just wants to sleep and think about it tomorrow. Or never. 

Thanks to his exhaustion he falls asleep soon after.


	2. Only fools rush in

Chapter 2 – Only fools rush in

It is the morning Cas' courses are going to start and to his amusement, Dean discovers that he is not exactly a morning person, quite the opposite. With eyes barely open he watches him shuffle from his bedroom to the dining table, slump down in a chair and squint at the bowl with cereals Dean had prepared. 

“Good morning, Cas.” 

Cas lifts his head and focuses Dean. The squinting intensifies before he struggles to hum in response, turns back to the bowl and slowly starts eating. 

It is only after he leaves the bathroom later with eyes fully open when Dean gets the feeling he will actually listen to the advice he is about to give him. 

“There are going to be a lot of people you're gonna meet today,” he starts off. “They're as nervous as you, it will be awkward and difficult at the start but believe me most of them are nice. Try not to stare at anyone, no matter how interesting they look.” 

“I would never-”, Cas protests weakly. 

“You would. Sometimes your fondness for humanity shows through and it might seems a little creepy for someone who doesn't know you, trust me.” Dean hands him a lunch bag and gives him an encouraging nod. “But you're a good guy, easy to go along with and as soon as they find that out you'll make a lot of friends. And one last thing, if someone invites you to go at a bar in the evening, say yes.” 

“You want me to go at a bar with a stranger?” 

“No, I want you to get to know someone. I rely on your knowledge of human nature to decide if he or she could be a possible friend and then go to a bar for some college mates bonding.”

Cas lets that sink in, sighs and eases him. “I'll do my best.” 

Dean smiles. “I'm sure you will.” 

\-----

Dean started working the day before. His new boss had taken him on little tour through the garage, introduced him to his coworkers. He assumed it will take only a week until he has become acquainted with his new workplace. 

After he clocks out on his second day, he walks through the commercial street back home. He wonders how Cas is doing on his first day, if he is getting along with everyone when something in one of the shop windows catches his attention. 

He stops in his pace and moves closer. One of the windows of a run-down second hand shop is stuffed with all sorts of cloths but it only one piece that Dean is focusing on. A trench coat looking exactly like the one Cas used to wear, loosely draped over a male mannequin. 

Dean's heart skips a beat. Somehow this hideous piece of fabric manages to make him feel nostalgic and he has a brief flashback of the moment when he met Cas for the first time. 

The old warehouse in the middle of nowhere, covered in sigils of all sorts. It had taken Bobby and him hours to paint each one and as it turned out, they all would have been useless. Then the summoning after which Cas walked, or rather strutted in, utterly unimpressed by the sparks flying over his head. 

The thought that their very first interaction was him putting a knife in Cas' chest makes Dean chuckle until he recalls another very vivid memory. Him retrieving it out of the water after … He stops that thought and looks down. Now when he hatches a second glance at the trench coat it reminds him of all the times he saw it covered in dirt and blood. 

The upcoming idea that slowly forms in his head takes him by surprise. Is he really considering buying it for Cas? Why? That's stupid, an absolute dick move since Cas will without much doubt be reminded mostly of the sad parts, too. It is just an ugly piece of fabric. There are many other coats that suit Cas much better.

Yet Dean does not, cannot walk away. He kind of misses seeing Cas wearing the trench coat. And what if he walks by again tomorrow and it is gone? Wouldn't he regret not buying it then? Most likely, but it still would be just sappy to buy it, Dean reasons. Overemotional crap like this is never worth the money and more often than not it ends up in the depths of another cupboard. 

He unsnaps his eyes from the window and walks away. A couple of feet. Then doubt mixed with nostalgia gains control over him. He looks back at it hanging there. He imagines giving it to Cas. Again he turns away sharply shutting down his reluctant behavior by telling himself he is going to ask Cas later if he would like it. 

After two steps he stops and this time sighs deeply. What if Cas would like to have it but the shop has sold it before Dean gets back here tomorrow? It appears to be in good condition and since he did not notice it yesterday they probably displayed it today for the first time. He trudges back to the window, gazing at the coat as if it could tell him somehow since when it has been hanging there. Bullshit, Dean thinks. No one's ever going to buy this hideous thing. 

Except him, maybe. He groans and covers his face with his hands. Then spreads his fingers to get another glimpse at the cause of his misery. Then he groans again.

Half an hour later he arrives at home with a bag that contained regret and a particular piece of fabric. 

\-----

Dean spends the late afternoon by opening up the last boxes from the move to clear them out. He had just found an envelope with some pictures his mom had taken shortly after the restart. Sam, Jess and Dean had gone straight to Lawrence to see Mary who welcomed them with open arms. Bobby and Cas had arrived there earlier, so did Jo, Ellen and Ashe. Over the course of a few days they gathered around the kitchen table and told stories, discussed, and made plans. 

One of the pictures shows Sam, Cas and him leaning against the Impala. Dean decides he should get a frame for it but before he can put it aside he hears his phone vibrating on the couch. 

He feels relieved when he reads Cas' message which states that he is actually going to visit a bar later with a group of people from his class. He assures him that he'll be back before 10pm. Dean smiles when he types in his reply. 

>

He hits send and his gaze falls back to the photograph. Then he looks up to the bag sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table. Another unholy idea forms in his head which he greets with with another groan. 

He is not going to be this sappy, it would be ridiculous. Never. Not ever he tells himself. But a part of him already bargains. Why not? You already lost the fight over buying the trench coat, so why not add some personal touch to it. What would it hurt? 

\-----

Dean wakes up from the sound of the entrance door. He turns the TV off and gets up to greet his flat mate. 

“Hey there, how has it been?”, he asks. 

Cas is leaning backwards against the door taking off his shoes. Or rather trying to. With slow and uncoordinated movements he fumbles at the solaces until they finally untie enough so he could pull out his feet. He drops the shoes next to his bag. Dean grins. 

“Looks like you had fun.” 

“I guess you can say that,” Cas replies. 

Adorable, that word shot up in Dean's mind when he watched him struggle. He has not seen Cas drunk before. Seeing him being tipsy and slightly wobbling from side to side sets off a strange feeling in his chest. 

“You'll get used to it. It's good you bonded with them on the first day, it makes things easier with people around you get along with” Cas nods and walks past him into the living room. At one point he reaches out for the wall to steady him. 

“I thought about it on my way here and now I have come to a conclusion”, he looks back at Dean. “I don't like it.” Dean laughs. “Being intoxicated is …,” Cas waves his hand while searching for an appropriate word, “... weird.”

Then he pauses and seems to sober up a bit. “What's that, Dean?” He points at one of the chairs. Crap, that does not sound as happy as Dean hoped. 

“It's … a trench coat”, Dean stammers. 

“Yeah I can see that. It looks an awful lot like the one I had.” Cas looks at him surprised.

“I bought it”, Dean continues. “On my way home. From work.” God, this was exactly as embarrassing and moldy as he had imagined it earlier. “I went past a second hand shop and saw it there in the window, you know.” Just keep talking, Dean, keep going. It cannot get worse anymore. “At first I didn't want to buy it, but then I thought you might like it, so I bought it for you, but looking at it know I'm not so sure about that anymore.” 

“You bought it for me?” Ah, crap. 

“Yes”, Dean admits. He looks down at the trench coat and then back at Cas. He should back paddle here as long as he still can. Dean gets the feeling this is going out of hand. 

“It looks hideous”, Dean says. “You shouldn't wear it, I'll bring it back to the shop tomorrow.” 

Cas squints at him. “Why did you buy it then?” 

How on earth should he answer that if he does not even know himself what had possessed him to do such a stupid move. He opens his mouth just to close it again. And then he remembers the photograph. “You should look into the pockets,” he says as if that explained anything. Good Lord, this time he really outplayed himself with stupidity. The photo will only add some more layers of awkwardness. 

Cas reaches into the pockets and pulls out the picture. “Oh.” Finally, Cas smiles, it eases away some of the tension Dean has build up. This was what he had intended. 

“I knew you had a picture of us in your old trench coat and I thought, I mean, I don't know if you already have a photo of us here, so I figured you might want one.” Dean rubs his neck and looks down. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable though. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't-, I mean. I appreciate the thought-”, Cas stutters.

“You don't like it”, Dean insists. He approaches Cas and reaches for the stupid piece of wardrobe. “I'll bring it back tomo-”

“No!” Cas quickly presses the coat against his chest. “I want to keep it.” 

“Cas, you don't have to-” 

“It's a present and I like it. I'm going to keep it, Dean.” 

He examines it in his hands on last time before he looks up again. “I think it's a good present”, he says determined.

Dean looks down at the coat and sighs. Dean stands there not sure if he should consider this to be a failure or a success. Cas steps closer, his fists clenching the coat and then Dean feels a slight touch on his left cheek. He freezes. 

“Thank you”, Cas mutters. 

Dean could feel his cheeks starting to burn. He cannot manage to lift his head, yet look at Cas, he is not even sure if is heart is still beating. Cas fiddles with the coat for a moment. “Goodnight, Dean.” 

Dean doesn't move until he hears Cas closing the door. And even then he only blinks. Trying to process what had just happened. Because Cas had just. He had … Dean takes a deep breath. He did thank him and gave him a … 

Dean's mind is hastily looking for a word that described Cas' action. No way in hell he will refer to it with the k-word. It takes him quite a while to come up with one. Cas had given him a 'peck' on his cheek. Yeah, that sounds reasonable. It was nothing more than a peck.

His cheek that received Cas' sign of gratitude still burned hot and the skin feels tingly right where Cas had placed his … peck. 

Dean raises his hand and touches the spot with his fingertips. It's just a thank you peck, nothing special. He had the coat in his hands so it would have been difficult to hug, and also Cas was drunk, a tiny bit, yet still slightly under the influence of alcohol. Just a peck, he reassures himself, nothing more. 

\-----

The next morning Dean is sitting at the breakfast table when Cas comes out of his room. He feels a slight blush coming up on his face again. They eat in silence. Dean does his best to seem indifferent to the growing tension. Cas is the first one to break the quietness when they get up to bring their dishes to the sink. 

“Dean, about last night. I-”

“It's fine, Cas.” Dean opens the water tap and takes the bowl and cup away from him. “I don't mind”, replies Dean and manages to glance at Cas with a smile. He sees the relief on Cas' face for a moment when they finally look at each other. 

“Oh, okay. Good. Then I'm-I'm going to get ready.” 

“Okay”, Dean answers. His mind focusing on what he just said to figure out what that even meant. 

While Cas gets ready in the bathroom Dean proceeds to put away the breakfast stuff and cleans out the coffee machine. When Cas shows up a short time later with his bag in his hand, Dean is cleaning out the cloth he used to wipe the table. This time it is Dean who tries to ease the tension. 

“Ready for the second round?”, he jokes. Cas just nods shyly. “Then have a nice day, and don't get into any trouble. Don't do what I wouldn't.” Before he thinks about it he looks at Cas with a smile and winks. He goddamn winks. Dean barely resists the impulse to hit his head against the kitchen counter. God, he really behaves like a complete idiot when he is nervous. 

He turns back to the sink and shuts is eyes in agony. Why is he even nervous, it is just Cas. His friend, his flat mate, who suddenly is standing next to him. His heart stutters. When did he- 

“You too, have a nice day at work. Thanks for cleaning up.” This time he is sure that his heart stops as soon as he feels the touch on his cheek. 

“See you later.” And with that Cas is gone. When the door is closed Dean grabs the side of the kitchen counter and takes a deep breath. That bastard ki-, did it again. He did it again and this time Dean expected it from the moment Cas stood by his side. And he did nothing to stop it, on the opposite, he hoped for it. 

This day at work Dean's thoughts circle around these two incidents. He even catches himself thinking of stuff he can do so Cas will thank him. 

\-----

Cas does not give him another peck this day. Or the next day. Or the day after. And with each day that passes Dean gets more anxious. What if he won't do it ever again? 

That would not be that bad actually. Things have gone back to normal between them. No awkward tension anymore. But something inside Dean is tugging, pulling on his chest and it only has gotten worse the more time passed. 

He knows that Cas is probably waiting for a sign that Dean wants him to continue. All he can think of is to return a peck, a thought that springs at him whenever there is an opportunity. But so far every time it occurred to him he hesitated and did not do it so far. 

On the next Saturday Dean gets home in the early afternoon after his shift and just falls into the couch. He turns the TV on and switches the channels aimlessly until his mind starts to wander and he zones out. He gets pulled back soon when Cas returns. He had gone to the library earlier. 

Dean turns around on the couch to get view of the entrance area where Cas is taking of his shoes holding a small paper box carefully. 

“Welcome back. You got me a present?”, Dean jokes. His heart starts to beat a little faster when he sees Cas smile. 

“Today at the library was a stand that sold pie and I thought you want me to bring you some.” 

Dean is up on his feet as soon as he hears pie. “It's mini apple pie.”, he smirks at Dean. “You want some?” 

“Of course!” Dean is almost bouncing while Cas opens the box carefully. This is exactly what he was looking for. He scraps together all the confidence inside him and mixes it with the odd pulling in his chest. This time he won't chicken out.

When the lit is pulled aside he steps closer, takes one and bends forward. “Thanks, Cas” Then he places his lips on Cas' slightly blushing cheek for a moment before he straightens up again and casually bites of a piece of the pie. 

He tells himself it's the pie. That it is so good it turns his knees to jelly as he walks back to the couch. It is definitively the unbelievable good pie he wants more of. And for such good pie, a peck on the cheek is a justifiable reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, that took me forever to edit ... and to be honest I completely rewrote the first two parts. Rewriting that was fun but I'm still not satisfied with the ending of the chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it. See you next week. <3


	3. But I can't help falling ...

Chapter 3 - But I can’t help falling ...

 

It’s been nearly two weeks since the pie incident when it hits Dean that something is happening. He had been so busy with work and moving, getting used to the new environment, that he didn't have much time to think. In the evenings he either was too tired to do anything but watch TV, unpacked the last remaining boxes or met with Sam, sometimes Charlie, for a beer and a talk.

 

On this particular Thursday afternoon Dean walks home from the garage, past the second hand shop, along a small park going through his mental check-list: Unpack boxes, done. Buy and set up a lamp for Cas’ desk, done. Laundry, done. Actually, there isn't something to do for him when he gets home, besides making dinner.

 

It’s been awhile since Dean had time and energy left to take up his hobbies. The first thing in his mind is to drive around with Baby, which is very tempting, but considering the traffic in the city he would have to drive quite a distance to get far away enough to enjoy it. So, no Baby.

 

It doesn't take long to go from Baby to books, Dean hasn't read since he moved here. He recalls to have seen a book shop at the opposite side of the park that he wanted to check out. After a few minutes, he enters a small, old-fashioned store and is greeted by an elder lady. She looks up past  a stack of different books sitting on the counter.

 

“Hello, how can I help you?”

 

Dean shakes his head. “Thanks, but I just want to take a look around.”

 

The woman adjusts her reading glasses and smiles. “If you need anything I'm right here at the counter.” Then she picks up another book and starts hunt and peck typing on a computer with a pained expression.

 

Dean walks over to one of the book shelves. He really isn't looking for anything specific. The first few books he pulls out, don’t appeal to him very much. His index finger glides gently over several book spines, pausing on a blue book with yellow letters. “The Humans*”, he reads under his breath before he takes it out and looks at the summary on the back.

 

It’s about an alien landing on earth and his struggles to understand human behaviour. Dean chuckles. This is the perfect book for Cas. He turns it around, there’s a dog looking into the sky filled with stars on the cover. This would surely earn him a ‘Thanks’ with a cheek kiss.

 

Wait, wait, wait.

 

What?

 

Since when does he gets kissed by Cas?

 

 _This has been happening for 3 weeks now_ , a matter-of-fact voice in his mind reports.

 

No, yes, okay, but why?

 

 _Because you gave him the trench coat_ , fact-voice replies patiently. _And because you got him the lamp a day after he mentioned he’d need one. Also, that time you made him a PB &J sandwich, that one was a big success, he even laid his hand on your shoul-._

 

Dean’s grip on the book tightens. Hold on. This is really happening? Like that. Three times already? And he just ROLLED with it?

 

_Why wouldn't you?_

 

Because it’s Cas?

 

_So what?_

 

Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he’s male?

 

 _Not this crap again_ , fact-voice sighs, _we've gone through this a couple of times already. You remember that we came to the conclusion that you have a thing for some men?_

 

Yes, he knows that he feels attracted to guys sometimes, however, his romantic interests and actions had always focused women. Not Cas! Not like this!

 

_Well, I got news for you. You kissed him back._

 

Dean smashes the book against his forehead. HE KISSED CAS. Why in hell did he kiss Cas, how did this happen?

 

_Because you gave him the tre-._

 

“Shut up!”, Dean shouts at the book.

 

“Seems like a very intense book, huh?!”

 

Dean looks up to the lady behind the counter who gives him a strange look.

 

“You’re okay, boy?”

 

He looks back to the book, barely resisting the urge to hit it against his head one more time.

 

“It’s just a very interesting book.” He starts nodding. “Interesting plot, interesting cover, just very … interesting.”

 

He walks up to the counter waving the book in one hand. “I’ll take it”, he laughs nervously.

 

The shop lady takes the book with raised eyebrows and peeks at the cover before scanning it.

 

“Shall I gift-wrap it?”

 

“No! No, just a bag will do, please.”

 

“Okay, that’s $24.99.”

 

After he had paid in cash she hands him his bag and change with a trained smile. “Here you go.”

 

“Thanks”, Dean replies politely, ducking his head.

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

\-----

 

He gets home still bashing himself for acting out in the book shop. This has to be among the top five of embarrassing things that will haunt him forever. He falls down on the couch and takes the book of the bag.

 

While he stares at the cover a familiar voice in his head reappears.

 

 _You know, you could tell him to stop it if it troubles you so much_ , it appeases him.

 

A weird feeling spread across his shoulder blades. As he tries to swallow away the lump in his throat a realization emerges into his consciousness. He doesn't want him to stop. Ever.

 

He throws the book at the table, leans back and covers his face. No no no, this is so far out of what he believed Cas to be for him. Cas is his best friend, an angel, comrade-in-arms, not someone who he can have that kind of feelings for. This is just too serious, too difficult.

 

He takes a deep breath.  He shuts that thought down, puts it away, out of his mind, locking it up somewhere inside to look at it when he is prepared to see what that means.

 

He rubs his eyes aggressively. A glimpse on the clock tells him that Cas will be home in about half an hour. His thoughts wander back to his very first question. Since when did Cas kiss him? With a lot of emphasis placed on kiss. Why not hug, or smile and nod? Why did he went for a freaking cheek kiss?

 

 _Maybe he likes you_ , his inner voice suggests carefully, _or he just doesn't know what it means. He’s got better at figuring out human behaviour but he still is a little bit behind in these things, you know. It’s kinda cute._

 

Yeah, it’s cute, but also freaking annoying if you have to grapple with it. How the hell should he find out if Cas does this because he ‘likes’ him or because he’s just clueless without revealing too much of his own emotions. He can’t look for normal flirting because this dumb ex-angel has no idea what that is. And at the thought of asking him straight forward Dean gets sick in his stomach. No way he’s going to ask him.

 

So, what should he do then?

 

_Play along, wait and see?_

 

\-----

 

Dean is still sitting on the couch when Cas comes home. They exchange a brief “Hey” before Cas drops down next to him.

 

“How was your day?”

 

“I went to a book shop on my way home and found something for you”, Dean says pointing at the book on the table. Cas picks it up.

 

“The humans”, he reads out loud, then he turns it around. After a few seconds he looks up at Dean. “Are you making fun of me?”

 

“Partly”, he admits. “But I really think you’re gonna enjoy reading it. It’s about your favourite topic.” He smiles. Cas scrutinizes his face before his familiar half smirk appears.

 

“I appreciate it. Thanks, Dean”

 

Dean locks his eyes on the black TV screen. The cushioning besides him is pushed down by shifted weight. He feels his shoulder bumping against Cas’ chest and then a soft, warm touch on his cheek, hot breath colliding with his skin.

 

It is only after Cas has settled back into his place Dean takes his eyes off from the TV to watch Cas open the book, soon he is already absorbed by the first page.

 

His baby blues move over the sentences, while Dean furthermore inspects Cas’ profile. He has to admit that he is pretty good looking. His hair is tousled as always. When the ex-angel leaves in the morning he has it combed down but in the evening it bared evidence that he has a habit to run a hand through it. However, the most troubling feature is his mouth. His slightly parted lips that kissed Dean mere a minute ago.

 

Why do you kiss me, Dean wonders silently. And why does it feel so right?

 

His hands twitch. He has to do something with them, otherwise he will snap and they end up on Cas somehow. With slapping them on his knees he gets up.

 

“Gonna prepare diner.”

 

\-----

  


Later in the evening they are watching a TV show Cas is very fond of, ‘Pushing Daisies’. Dean has to admit that it’s kinda cool, he likes the setup of the characters and the plot line. It’s very much different from other shows. What Cas likes most about it, he tells Dean, are the colors. They’re bright and vibrant, not as dull and dark as in most other shows. Midway in the episode before the first commercial break Dean gets distracted.

 

He peeks at Cas’ hand placed between them on the couch. This looks familiar, like when he was with girl who liked him. They would position their hands next to him to see if he would pick it up. This conceives an idea.

 

What if he draped his hand next to it, see if Cas takes it, this would mean that he likes him right?

 

Dean arches his back and stretches his arms away in front of him. Then he takes the pillow to his left, puts it on his lap, holding onto it loosely, whereas his right hand drops seemingly unintended on the cushion.

 

_This is never gonna work, he won’t pick up that hint._

 

If he doesn't get it then he won’t notice his intentions either, Dean explains, so there’s nothing for him to lose for taking that risk, right?

 

Dean wiggles in his place some more, sneakily pushing closer. Their hands were so close now that he could feel the warmth radiating from Cas.

 

Please, would you just take my hand, you dumb ex-feathered ferret, Dean prays silently.

 

Apparently, his prayer doesn't work, which was to be expected, because nothing happens for the next few minutes. Cas doesn't even seem to notice. Dean claws his left hand in the pillow so that his knuckles turn white.

 

Come on, notice me. In a knee-jerk reaction Dean nudges the back of Cas’ hand with his pinky impatiently.

 

_What are you doing, you idiot?_

 

Oh God, he didn't mean to do that. Well, he got Cas’ attention now. Out of the corner of his eye he sees him looking down and then up at Dean who clenches his jaw eyes locking on the TV screen that isn't black this time. His heart beat fast and in his opinion it had to be louder than the noise from the show.

 

_Don’t let him know it was you!_

 

Who else would he think it was?

 

_You’re gonna fuck up it up!_

 

I don’t! If you have a better idea then why don’t you-

 

Then his mind goes blank. His thinking converts into a long, high-pitched scream, when he senses  Cas’ thumb brushing over his hand.

 

Dean is certain he’s going to die of a heart attack. He survived demons, all sorts of monsters, and the freaking apocalypse only to be taken down by a mere thumb. Or he’s going to suffocate because he sure as hell forgot how to breath. He didn’t jerk aside at least but his whole body is strained to its bursting point. Cas must have observed that because he pulls his thumb away and turns back at the TV.

 

After a few minutes, Dean starts to breath normally again.  He twists his hand slowly, careful not to stir Cas’ attention again, which is somehow pointless, since he stretch out his index and middle finger to tug at one of Cas’.

 

_What on God’s green earth are you doing? Are you possessed or something?_

 

I am not doing anything!

 

_You fucked it all up! Oh great, there it goes …_

 

Cas takes his hand.

 

This whole thing may actually take 2-3 seconds but for Dean it feels like a whole life in one heartbeat. All he hears is white noise, his body seems to start floating, getting out of touch with his environment, and the only thing left to connect him with reality is something warm, and soft, gently gliding into his hand, surrounding it carefully as if it would break when there’s too much pressure.

 

His heart beats loud but not like before when he feared for his life. Joyous, content, because it feels so right to do. Out of fear Cas’ might pull away, realizing it’s a mistake, Dean tightens his grip, squeezes a bit.

 

Cas’ thumb is brushing over his knuckles again.

 

THIS IS NICE!

 

_YES, INDEED!_

 

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

 

_I HAVE NO CLUE!_

 

WHAT? WASN'T THIS SUPPOSED TO BE A TEST FOR CAS’ FEELINGS?

 

_YEAH, BUT ALONG THE WAY YOU STARTED POKING HIM INTO THIS, MAYBE YOU PUSHED HIM TO DO THAT!_

 

SO, THIS MEANS I’M HOLDING HANDS WITH CAS AND WE HAVE GAINED NO MORE INSIGHT BY THIS?

 

_QUITE RIGHT, SHERLOCK! YOU FUCKED UP BRILLIANTLY!_

 

…

  
_COULDN'T IMAGINE A BETTER WAY TO FUCK UP THOUGH._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~
> 
> * “The Humans” by Matt Haig, published in the US in 2013, sorry for this time traveling book, I know the story is set in 2006 but this book just fits perfectly
> 
> I swear I sat there several minutes holding my own hand to see how they would hold hands and how I can describe it properly, which is a very weird thing to do. 
> 
>  
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long. I actually wrote a version of Chapter 3 and finished it last Friday, but during the editing on Saturday I fought with every sentence, and it wasn't until Sunday morning when I realized that it's not going to work. I spent Sunday with my family but went back to writing in the evening, starting a new chapter 3, and it went better this time. Then I got my period. And I'm terrible unstable and moody when I'm in that condition. I'm kinda bad at editing tho and I know there are still some edges in the fic that I didn't manage to take out. But I'm learning, and that's good. 
> 
> I really like this chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading.


	4. Shall I stay

Chapter 4 - Shall I stay

The following day Dean is invited to a poker night at one of his colleagues house. The mechanic still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he really held his former angel’s hand, and that it’s seemingly no big deal either. Both of them went to bed and had a fairly normal breakfast in the morning. Why Dean doesn’t freak out is beyond him. Those are the thoughts that distract him while he’s playing, yet he still manages to finish the evening with a profit. He gets home past 2 AM. To his surprise the light in the hallway is on and he hears someone rustling in the bathroom. 

“Cas?”, he shouts while hanging up his jacket. The rustling stops. Dean kicks off his shoes when Cas steps around the corner, pale like the wall next to him, with bleary eyes . 

“What are you doing still up?”, Dean approaches him and lays a hand on his shoulder. Cas’ face twists in pain before he stumbles forward and just leans into his shoulder, clawing his fists in the sides of Dean’s shirt. 

Dean freezes completely, he wasn’t expecting to be the victim of a cuddle attack by Cas tonight. Shallow, hot breathing soaks through the fabric on his collar bone and then Cas does something Dean has never heard him do. He whimpers. 

“Cas?”, Dean’s voice is now full of worry. He undecidedly places his hands on Cas’ sides. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“My brain is melting”, Cas huffs out against Dean’s skin. Then he sucks in a sharp breath. Like, almost as if, did he sob? Dean now pulled him closer into a hug and places his hand on Cas’ exposed neck which draws out another whine. His skin burns. 

“Hey, hey”, Dean shushes starting to rub his thumb soothingly, gaining nothing but a further dry sob as Cas starts to tremble. He pushes him away, and places on hand on Cas’ forehead. 

“Does your throat hurt? Or anything else?” 

Cas closes his eyes and and leans into the pleasant cold hand. 

“No”, he mutters pained. “Just the head.” 

Dean guides Cas to the kitchen, props him against the counter and fills a glass with water. 

“Drink this. All of it”, he orders. 

Cas takes it with both hands and does as he is told while Dean opens one of the cupboards and takes out some painkillers. He refills the glass and gives it back together with one of the pills. 

Cas takes the pill in his mouth with a sip of water. As Dean watches him struggle to swallow he suddenly realizes that Cas doesn’t know how to take pills. They should have practiced that, dammit. When Cas finally gets the water down, Dean knows that he didn’t swallow the pill as soon as Cas whimpers his name. 

“Place the pill in the middle of your tongue, then just drink and don’t think about it”, Dean explains reassuring. He steps closer and lifts the glass back up to Cas lips, forcing him to drink it up without a break. Cas’ eyes are firmly shut and he struggles heavily with this task, as a tear streams down his face. 

When the glass is empty Dean puts it down, and Cas sucks in a deep breath. 

“There you go”, Dean whispers softly and brushes the tear from Cas’ face with his sleeve. 

He leads Cas back to his bed where he slumps down, short in breathing. Dean pulls the cover up and sits down. 

“It’s not working”, complains Cas, his voice distorted with pain. 

“It takes a few minutes before it is effective.” Dean places his hand on Cas’ neck again and rubs his thumb over the feverish skin until his breath evens out indicating that he’s fallen asleep. 

\-----

The next morning when Dean gets up he peeks into Cas’ room. The silhouette beneath the blanket moves sluggishly. He enters lightly and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

“How do you feel?” 

His eyes still closed Cas grumbles, “Like someone put a knife in my forehead.”

“Did you get some sleep?” 

“Hm-mh.”

“I’m gonna make you some tea, okay?”

“Hm-mh.”

Dean stands up, draws the curtain and opens the window. Cas winces and pulls the blanket over his head. 

“Just a few minutes,” Dean says apologetic, “You need some fresh air in here.” 

He leaves quietly and returns with a kettle, a cup and a plate with two toasts, puts it all down on the nightstand and closes the window. Cas rolls on his back and pushes himself up to get into a sitting position, his movements are lethargic. When he sinks back into the pillow Dean’s heart aches. His flatmate looks miserable, white as a sheet and soaked with sweat. 

“Try to eat something, even if it’s just a few bites. I’m going out for a bit to get you some liquid painkillers. It won’t take long”, Dean reassures him. 

\----- 

When Dean comes back he finds Cas nipping on one of the toast slices. He takes the liquid painkiller out of the plastic bag, dissolves the tablet in a glass of water and brings it over to the sickbed. 

“Gotta warn you, this will taste awful.” 

“As long as it’s not a pill”, Cas murmurs disdainful. He downs the glass in one swing, puts it back on the nightstand and curls up, burying his face under his arm. 

“You should sleep a bit more.” 

When Dean is about to get out Cas mumbles disapprovingly. 

“You need something else?” 

“Can you do the neck thing again?”, Cas asks defeated. 

Dean sits down quietly. “Sure.” 

\-----

After Cas has gone back to sleep Dean decides to take a shower. As he steps into the tub he is trying as hard as possible not to think about the buzzing in his hand or that he just rubbed it over Cas’ skin for several minutes. Problem is, the buzzing stretches over his body more than Dean does like it, especially in his lower body parts. 

Cas is miserable sick and Dean shouldn’t even think remotely into that direction, nevertheless, his noble attitude on this matter succumbs his desire to get rid of the pressure building up inside him.

So far he had washed his hair and avoided touching himself as much as possible but, maybe, just a little bit - it’s not his fault Cas is ill - and if he doesn’t think about him it’s okay, isn’t it? 

He applies body soap and starts to wash his shoulders, arms, then his chest. As he works down over his tummy to his tights he could feel that he was already quite hard. He gives his private parts a quick wash, ignores the tugging of want intensifying in his belly and turns the water back on. 

As the hot fluid washes away the foam he reenacts his movements from before but this time a bit more sensitive, teasing himself. Running his hands slowly over his wet skin, already gasping for air when he wraps his dick into a firm grip and starts stroking. He moans softly with his lips pressed together and tries to focus on the hot water drops splashing against his skin. 

Don’t think about Cas, he warns himself, it’s okay as long as you don’t fantasize about him, or think of how you’re pleasing yourself with the same hand that just touched his warm, smooth skin. 

Dean almost stops at that thought, hit by a wave of guilt but also excitement. He really shouldn’t think about that. Furthermore, he isn’t imagining Cas being here with him, sound and healthy, of course, but also dripping wet, watching him with slightly parted lips, his hands gently lingering over his sides, and that he presses his mouth on Dean’s neck, nibbling and licking away the water sprinkled all over his sensitive skin. 

Dean comes hard and abruptly, he muffles his moan by pressing his forearm against his lips. This was way too quick for his liking, he thinks, waiting for the orgasmic shivers to end. As surprisingly good that has felt, his breathing turns back to normal and his shoulders slump when the guilt comes crushing in. 

He takes the shower head and washes away the evidence of his misdoing. 

\-----

Dean is washing the dishes when Cas zombie walks to the bathroom. When he hears the toilet flush he sets aside the last remaining plate and dries his hand with the dish towel. Cas steps out slightly staggering. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Cas doesn’t answer but instead wavers even more. Dean throws the towel at the counter and takes a step out of the kitchen. 

“Cas?”, he says with an increasingly alarmed tone, then he sees Cas reaching for the wall as his legs give out. A moment later Dean is next to him, catches him, swings Cas’ arm over his shoulder, and more or less drags him to Cas’ bed. He lays him down, puts his legs on the hastily shoved together blanket and cups Cas’ face with his hands. 

“Cas? Hey, hey, hey, come on, Cas”, he winces panicking until Cas mumbles something that could be his name. When he reaches for his phone Cas weakly grips his left wrist. Dean sighs relieved.

“Why’s ma bed movin’?”, Cas mutters. 

“Your bed isn’t moving, you’re dizzy, it will stop in a few minutes.” 

Dean would have laughed to see Cas struggling with words like this if is knees weren’t still like jelly. 

“Ma ‘nongue-”

“Stop talking, Cas”, Dean interupts him more harshly than he means to, “Your tongue feels like that also because of this.” 

Dean sits back, stressing his hands over his eyes, breathing slowly. He shuffles back and watches how the color returns to his flatmate's face. When Cas opens his eyes he looks at him with raised brows. 

“You just collapsed in the hallway. Don’t get up feeling dizzy! Never do this again”, Dean says reproachful. 

“Sorry.” 

If Cas doesn’t get better tomorrow he will drive him to the hospital. 

\-----

Luckily, the next day, Cas is better. He is up and out of his bedroom when Dean starts to prepare breakfast, stating that his head doesn’t ache anymore, and that he’s feeling normal, no dizziness. 

During breakfast Dean watches him with eagle eyes, just to make sure. His body is relaxed and he really doesn’t seem to be in pain but the illness took his toll. Cas’ movements still were a little slow and disorientated, just a little bit out of place. However, that’s something a little more rest can cure easily. 

Dean is relieved to see him getting better which makes it seem like a good start into this warm Sunday. Dean has just finished cleaning up when he sees Cas unpacking his bag. 

“You’re sure you’re ready to study?” 

Cas shakes his head. 

“I won’t study”, he says, “I’m packing for later.” 

“Later? What are you going to do later?” 

Cas looks at him with wide eyes. “The LARP thing is today, isn’t it? The one Charlie invited us to.” 

Dean walks up next to Cas and crosses his arms. “You are seriously planning to go there?”, he asks, “Today?” 

Cas stops fidging with his bag and straightens up. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“See, Cas, this is not gonna happen.” Dean pats Cas’ shoulder. “Sorry, buddy, but you’ll stay here, keep it low, and get better.” With this said he turns around, end of conversation. 

“No.” 

Dean stops mid motion. He slowly turns his head to look at a frowning Cas. 

“I want to go”, he says with determination. 

“You would have to run around all day, Cas, too bad you’re still recovering, no way you could keep up with everyone.” 

“I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Are you kidding me?”

Cas doesn’t answer instead he presses his lips together. 

“I won’t let you go there”, Dean says crossing his arms, “You need to rest, believe me.” 

“I don’t.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. He shakes his head in disbelief and sighs. 

“No, sorry, Cas, but you won’t go there. Not on my watch.” 

“And you are the one who’s deciding this for me?”, Cas snarls. 

“In this case, yes, I am. It’s no good for you, trust me.” 

“Since when do you decide-”

“Since I picked up your passing out ass in the hallway yesterday”, Dean snaps. “Collapsing is not a normal thing when you’re sick, Cas, it’s borderline hospital. You scared the crap out of me back then, I almost dialed 911 because I didn’t know what’s going on.” 

Cas’ posture falters. He opens his mouth, closes it again, looks down and then to his bag, stares at it with a small pout. 

“Listen, Cas, I know this sucks, and I wish we could go-” 

“It’s okay”, Cas interrupts him, “I understand.” 

He stomps to the sofa stoney-faced, slumps down, grabs the remote control and presses hard on the ON-button. Dean already feels bad for lashing out, he runs a hand through his hair before he walks over and sits down on the couch table face to face with Cas, blocking his view. 

Cas looks down to his hand with the remote keeping his pokerface. Dean gently peels it out of his hand to turn the TV off. He is still holding onto Cas’ hand when he puts the remote down. 

“Sorry”, he says brushing lightly over Cas’ knuckles. Cas doesn’t look up from their hands but the tension leaves his body and he holds onto Dean’s fingers tighter. He looks so sad that Dean that Dean can’t help it but lift their hands up and press Cas’ fingers against his cheek. 

“This doesn’t mean this has to be a bad day. We are going to watch TV and joke around like every other lazy Sunday, okay?” 

“We?” Cas pulls his hand away and furrows his brows. “I see your point in me staying at home but there’s no reason for you to do the same.” 

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You’d be okay with that?”

“You don’t have to miss out on this too, I am good enough to take care of myself.” 

Dean hesitates for a moment before he nods defeated. “Okay.” 

\-----

The LARP event had taken up most of his energy for today, so he kicks his shoes off and just drops his bag and jacket next to his bed before he walks over to the living room. He finds Cas lying on the sofa snuggled down under a light blanket, one arm under his head while the other one hangs loosely over the edge. 

Dean tiptoes his way around the couch table and sits down with his elbows resting on his knees on the same spot as this morning. He had watched Cas sleep several times the day before but it never has struck him as peaceful as now. Cas looks rosy cheeked and calm, healthy. Dean is glad his roommate was over the worst. 

It would be nice waking up seeing this every morning, wouldn’t it? 

There’s no denying it. He has a thing for the former angel. Over the course of the day he was mostly busy to keep up with the program but from time to time his mind had wandered to kissing cheeks and holding hands. 

He leans forward and nudges Cas’ shoulder. 

“Hey snow white, your prince is here.” 

There are times Dean wishes his lips would just fall off. That was very smooth and not in the slightest obvious. But it’s nothing, because Cas is still fast asleep. It takes some more nudges before he starts to squirm. 

“Hey Cas”, Dean tries again now that he’s sure Cas is listening, “I’m back.” 

His baby blue eyes finally open a bit. “Hey”, he replies before he turns his head and rubs his face against his arm. He sleepily moves up into a sitting position. 

“How was it?” 

“Awesome,” Dean says with a cautious smile. It sucks that Cas hadn’t been there and he didn’t want to make him feel even more bad about it so he practiced what to tell him on his drive home. 

“There were a lot more people than I’d have thought. It’s weird to see so many in costume in one place, together with the tents and the swords and all the props, you know. It really feels like you’ve travelled back in time. I’m pretty sure that you’ll like it.” 

“That sounds interesting.” Though Cas really tries his hardest not to let it show that he is still upset his voice is a tiny bit to toned up. Dean goes against it with good news.

“And we won the final battle,” he adds with a wide smile. “So be prepared to defend our kingdom when you come with us next time.” 

This also gets Cas to smile. “I’ll do my level best.” 

“Good.” Dean stands up. “I’m gonna take a shower, I feel like I wrestled around in dirt all day, which is actually what I did. Have you eaten dinner yet?” 

Cas shakes his head. “I can make us some sandwiches while you’re showering,” he offers after an extensive yawn. 

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean replies suppressing a yawn of his own while he walks off to the bathroom. 

After a quick, hot shower that feels like heaven for his tired muscles they settle down on the couch, eat and talk about each of their days. After Dean finished his sandwich he pushes the plate away and sinks back deeper into the cushion listening to Cas who is talking about a scene of the Humans book. 

This, Cas rumbling voice next to him, and the generic sound of some action movie that was playing in the background lulls him subtly into sleep apparently because Dean wakes up leaning heavily with his head on Cas’ shoulder and their hands tangled together. 

This is one of those moments Dean thought about a lot today. How normal it has become to kiss Cas’ cheek, that they have held hands before, that Dean is carving to simply touch Cas sometimes. Neither one of them has said anything yet but the fact that Cas took his hand while he was sleeping indicates that he’s comfortable with this, even more, also longs for this kind of intimacy with Dean. 

They’re in this phase between friendship and something else. And whatever this is, it’s so close to tipping over right now that Dean has a hard time to stay still, even though his body is itching to move either closer, maybe even to turn his head and just kiss Cas’ neck or to run away from this. Because giving in means risking what they already have for something Dean isn’t sure he can do, something that might not work. 

A sudden explosion sound from the TV jerks him fully awake. He lifts his head to watch a car getting wrecked in another explosion. Cas gives him an reevaluating glance. 

“You’re so beat,” he says while he gets up, “We should go to bed, don’t you think?” 

Dean hums in agreement. They’re still holding hands and so Cas pulls him on his feet and guides him to their bedroom doors. For a short moment Dean contemplates to not let go, but instead to hold onto Cas, to make him follow him into his room, to give in on what he wants. 

But before Dean can bring up enough courage it’s Cas who lets go, who slips away into his room, alone, after he said goodnight. 

Cas was right, he is completely wiped out, beat from the day out, when he shuffles into a comfortable position under the cover. But as tired as he feels it takes him a long time to fall asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again I failed to deliver in time. This chapter took longer than anticipated but I wanted to make it right, but I'm sorry it took me so long. Again.   
> In case you want to know what kind of illness Cas has, I can only guess it's some kind of sinusitis. Though I can tell you that It's not made up, almost the same thing happened to me when I was 16. 
> 
> I am looking for a native English speaking beta reader who helps me with the grammar and maybe the choice of words sometimes. If you are interested message me on my Tumblr bunny-knoll. You can also message me if you want to tell me your thoughts on this chapter, I would dance if I get a message in relation to my fic.
> 
> The next chapter will be released on 6th May. The chance that I will stick to it is pretty high since it's HunnyMcBunny's birthday <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading.


	5. Would it be a sin

It is in the late evening when Dean’s getting ready for bed routine is disturbed by the shrieking noise of the doorbell. On his way to the apartment door he hopes that it did not wake Cas. He looks through the spyhole, only to rip the door open a second later.

“Sam? What are you doing here?”, he says bewildered.

“Heya, Dean.” His little brother’s puppy eyes look back at him. “Can I stay here tonight?”

This bodes ill. 

“Sure,” Dean steps aside. Once inside Sam kneels down and undoes his shoelaces.

“What happened?”, Dean asks his hand lingering on the handle of the now closed door. The picture of misery in front of him exhales deeply. With steady movements he untangles the knot of the second shoe. Dean watches him stand up, slip out of his shoes and sigh again, before his little brother finally turns his head to him.

“I surprised Jess with a gift which - to put it mildly - she did not like very much,” he states. Vague hand gestures go together with his speech. “We fought, I left, now I’m here.”

“Okay”, Dean says slowly letting of the door handle. “What kind of gift did you give her? A gym membership card with the words ‘Thought you might wanna to lose weight’?”

Sam shoots him a death glare with blowing nostrils. 'Bitchface supreme', Dean notes mentally. 

“No, I did not tell her anything like that.” He shakes his head eagerly. “She took it completely the wrong way. I didn’t - I mean - I wanted to surprise her but,” his raises his hands in defense. “I’d never thought she’d go off like that, like - she acted like what I did was because I don’t care about her when it’s actually the other way ‘round, but she just won’t -”

The door cracking open behind Sam interrupts his rant. The brothers turn their heads to Cas, who appeared in the door frame, squinting at them both.

“Sam?!”, he hums, hazed eyes jumping back and forth between the two brothers. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry, Cas”, Dean says as he walks up into the space between Sam and his sleepy flat mate. With a soft voice he continues, “I’ll handle this, no biggie, just go back to sleep.”

For a couple of seconds Cas looks at him bleary-eyed. He throws a glance over to Sam who nods and adds, “Yeah, sorry, Cas, for this - for waking you. I just need to talk to my brother for a bit.” He pushes some hair out of his face. “And I’d also stay for the night if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” Cas replies instantly and a little more awake. “You can stay over whenever you want.”

Dean eyeballs his brother with an of-course-it-is-okay-expression before turning back to his flatmate. “Look, there’s no need for you to get up, too. We’ll handle it. You go back to bed, okay, buddy?" He resists the impulse to put a hand on his friend's bare shoulder. Shifting awkwardly he adds, "You've got a morning course early tomorrow, right?”

For a moment Cas stares back. That intense gaze that still sends a chill down his spine even after all these years. In this moments he has the feeling the former angel is sending a crucial message that he fails to decipher. That he is missing out on something. The worst part about it is that he cannot put it into words. It’s just a vague, but vigorous feeling.

It is the sound of Sam clearing his throat which indicates that they were staring too long again. Dean never knows how this happens.

\---

After Cas has gone back to bed the brothers sit down on the sofa. Without any warning Sam dives right into the conversation.

“She’s got it all wrong.”

“Just tell me how you screwed up this big”, Dean says preparing himself. He is confident to put up with whatever Sam is about to swing at him. Sam blows his cheeks. 

“I bought a house,” he announces in a flat tone.

Except for that. That was not a swing, that is a freaking roundhouse kick.

“You did WHAT?,” Dean bursts out. He stares at his brother with wide eyes.

“I bought a house,” Sam repeats louder combined with a dismissive hand gesture.

All Dean could do was stare at him confused. He gasps a few times before he reflexively boxes Sam’s shoulder. “Without telling me?”

“Not you too, Dean.” Sam’s head drops back into the cushions closing his eyes with resignation. Dean just continues to stare. Something tells him that his response is quite close to how Jess reacted.

“Okay, but seriously, how-, and when-”, Dean stammers.

His little brother groans tired.

“You gotta tell me the whole story, dude. How on earth did you get your hands on a freaking house?”

“Someone in my course told me about it, it’s his grandmother’s house - was. I went to look at it and it’s perfect!", Sam blurts out. "Nice suburban area but still close enough to where we work, a little garden, and it’s in good condition, I checked that!” 

He raises his index finger. “You wouldn’t believe the price I paid after you’ve seen it. There also were other people interested and I’m sure they would have pushed up the price, so I had to strike right away.” He waves his hands excitedly. “I handled it. I don’t get why she, and you,” he says with a side glance at Dean, “why you disapprove of it so much.”

“I get that you didn’t tell me,” Dean starts,”but -, well, actually I don’t get it because it’s not like you went out and got a short hair cut - which considering your style for the past years, would make the local news - but not telling Jess is a whole different matter. Of course she’s pissed. You decided on where you’re gonna live.”

Sam sighs deeply. “You all act like I just went and bought the next best house.”

‘That’s basically what happened, you dumbass,’ Dean thinks to himself. He deems his brother to be the most considerate and emphatic person he knows. Yet sometimes, when he’s excited he shoots well over the target.

“Look,” he says, “You can’t decide something like this alone when you’re in a relationship. Actually, that’s the whole point of a relationship to NOT make decisions alone.”

Sam presses his lips into a thin line and pouts.

This is going to take longer than anticipated. Dean gets up to fetch them two beer from the fridge. He doubts they will settle this quickly, his brother can be quite pigheaded.

\-----

Dean gets to bed late that night and sleep does not come easy. His thoughts circle around the talk with his brother. Unknowingly he has hit Dean's sore spot, his own plans. 

As hunters they had no care to map out a future. Hell, most times they did not even know if they had one. Their lifes had been too busy and uncertain. Too dangerous. But now, without the immediate threat of the world ending at any given moment, they have time. Enough of it to take control and chase their dreams. A possibility to make them come true.

Dean has not said it out loud but it winds him up that his little brother’s choice was to live here in California. Not in Kansas, not in Lawrence. Somehow he has believed they would return home together, settle down close to each other. But when he takes Sam's desire for independence into account this was to be expected.

Dean was a bit overwhelmed earlier when it dawned on him and he has shoved it off, focusing on the tall, pouting man in front of him. But in the dark silence of his room there is nothing to keep that unwanted flash of insight away. It is the sudden presentation of boundless opportunities that scares him.

He wonders how Sam handles it so well. Despite his fight with Jess, he was so excited, clearly looking forward to the life awaiting him. He seems to have made his choices without hesitation. Dean knows it is not fair but he can't help but feel like he is left behind. 

A wave of nausea makes him squirm under the cover as another somber thought worms its way into his consciousness. What if Cas has planned out his future already? A future that also does not include him. 

At this point it does not surprise Dean that this concept affects him so much. No matter how hard he has tried not to acknowledge it, apparently, he has a thing for his best friend. A thing he does not dare to identify closer yet. 

When they started living together he had struggled. Has kept a close watch on his thoughts, monitored that they would stay in line. Ignored the impulse to peek, to stare. He has learned to avoid the hazed baby blue eyes in the morning that had him weak in his knees the first time he made the mistake of looking directly into them. 

This is not admiring-a-best-friend-territory anymore.

Along with the feeling of sickness Dean becomes aware of something else. Something that has severely cut the amount of sleep he has gotten for the past days. 

His body felt sore. Not actually sore, like hurting muscles or scratched skin, but it was grinding close to the edge of pain. Like a sunburn that is not treated with the urgently needed lotion. His skin did not peel of, even so, he had the impression that it was oversensitive, feels tight and itchy. 

Carving. He is carving physical touch with a certain person. Intimacy desired to a content that makes him feel ill.

\-----

The next morning Sam is getting ready to leave when Cas emerges from his room, dozy, tousled and shirtless. The in unison “Morning, Cas” is only honored by a glance that takes long enough to have him walk into the bathroom door.

“Wow,” Sam smirks as he turns to his brother. “You weren’t lying when you said he wasn’t a morning person.”

“Never doubt my eagle eyes, Sammy.” The older brother chuckles his eyes fixed on the door that Cas has just locked behind him.

He forces his gaze away and looks at his baby brother. He already has put on his shoes prepared to leave. 

“Ready to go home and get your head ripped off?”

Sam’s stance falters a little. “Guess I'd deserve that”, he sigh.

Dean gives him an encouraging slap on his shoulder before pulling his huge body into a quick hug. “You’ll work it out.”

Long arms hold him in the embrace a bit longer. “Thanks, Dean.”

Sam is gone before Cas leaves the bathroom. They eat breakfast in an unusual silence until Cas looks at his phone and frowns. A second later he jumps up so that his chair and the table are creaking over the floor combined with the noise of clattering dishes. With a string of curse words on his lips he storms into the hallway.

“Cas?” Dean asks startled watching his friend hopping towards his room while putting his shoes on. In an increasingly panicking voice he answers, “Appointment - Professor - Ten minutes - Forgot!” before stumbling into his room.

Dean hears him rummaging around before his friend reappears in the frame, holding a few sheets of paper, terror written all over his face.

“BAG?” he yells and starts to spin around. 

Dean pulls it out from underneath the table and holds the backpack up. “Here!” 

With one arm in his coat, paper sheets pinned between his lips the supposably late student rips it out of his hands.

“Good luck.” That is all Dean can say before the door falls shut.

\-----

The gloomy thoughts from last night follow Dean around the whole day. In the evening while Cas and he are eating their ordered Chinese food he is still brooding over it. When his flatmate next to him on the sofa asks why Sam has sought shelter at their apartment last night, Dean sighs. 

“Sam and Jess had a pretty bad fight because my dumbass brother bought a house without telling her”, he explains short . A part of him hopes Cas does not hear the issues he has with that in his voice. Another part hopes he does.

“Sam has bought a house?!” Cas stops his chopsticks midway and throws a side glance at his friend in surprise. “Where?”

“Here, in one of the suburban areas.” Dean grits his teeth.

“When does he plan to move in?”, Cas asks as he gathers more noodles on his fork.

“Like hell I know”, Dean snarls at him quite well aware that he is being unfair. Cas stiffens up next to him and he could feel blue eyes gaze at him in wonder. 

Suddenly the scent of his noodles make him feel sick. Dean gets up and stomps to the kitchen. He nestles with the lit of the container before almost throwing it into the fridge. The fridge door is closed with way to much force resulting the kitchen to shake.

Dean looks around for something, anything to do, when his eyes land on the dirty dishes in the sink. The water and soap pour together in the sink when he hears footsteps approaching him.

His puzzled flatemate is awkwardly standing in the door frame. Dean trains his thoughts to the task at hand. The routine motions have less of an impact on his uneasiness than he has hoped. The stillness hanging in the air is only interrupted by the sound of splashing water and occasionally clatter. 

“What?”, Dean spits out angry when he cannot bare the silence anymore. From the corner of his eye he sees Cas ducks his head and he feels remorse bubbling up in his chest.

“Dean?” His friend pushes away from the door. “What’s wrong?”

Dean does not turn around, however, he lets go of the bowl he has washed and grabs the counter. His shoulders slump as he sighs.

What’s wrong? Good question. Out of the spur of the moment he would say everything is wrong. Sam planning an apple pie life away from him, wrong. His inability to be happy for his brother, wrong. Lashing out on Cas for this, very wrong.

“Nothing”, he hisses instead.

Cas takes a step towards him. Dean swallows. 

“I just had a freaking stressful day.” His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the counter. Once he has started talking he does not seem to be able to stop. “My stupid brother tells me suddenly about his life choices, has a plan what he wants to do with his life. College boy has straightened out his future all by himself, and I don't even - I don't even know what we will have for dinner tomorrow." He kicks the the fake wood door in front of his feet. "That, and no sleep, Cas. Even you should be able to figure out now what’s freaking wrong.”

Dean bites his lip after the last sentence. That is not what he meant to say. Not at all. He hears Cas shuffle closer.

He wants say something, anything. Bis mind is blank except for his rage and guilt. They slowly but surely fill him up, twist and warp every unfinished thought into a pointless mess. 

As Dean lets out an unsteady breath he regains some self control back. No way! No. He will not shed a single tear about something so dumb.

Without warning he feels Cas' arms sliding around his waist. 

As much as his instincts tell him to put a stop onto it. That he does not deserve so much gentleness after what he had done and said. His selfishness is stronger than all that. That part of him is tired of carving and waiting. 

'Let him be.' It begs. His heart is pounding so hard that Dean is sure the man leaning against his back can hear it. 'Let him be kind to you.'

 

Cas lowers his head so one of his temples touches Dean’s burning hot neck. Warmth closes around him. 

And Dean gives in, shifts his gravity point ever so slightly leaning back into his friend's arms. He covers Cas' hands with his own. Urges them to encircle him tighter. The promptly follow up, pull him in until they are firmly settled against each other. Then they are both just holding still.

When the doorbell rings Dean jerks startled around, pushing Cas off instinctively. They share a surprised look. In his mind the former hunter is torn between restoring the physical touch and apologizing. But before one of them can make a move the doorbell rings again urgently. Without a word Cas walks away to the door.

“Surprise!”, echoes even before Dean enters the hallway. Sam and Jess stand there, smiling and arms spread wide.

\-----

“Told you”, Dean smirks, “I knew she’d take your sorry ass back.”

“Lucky me”, Sam answers with a genuine smile pushing down the trunk lit.

The two of them have dropped by to invite Dean and Cas for a spontaneous garden party at Sam’s new house. To his little brother’s defence, it really is a dream house, easy to fall in love with.

As they guide toured through the bright, spacious rooms earlier, Dean has kept an eye on Jess. She was smiling and joking around along Sam, and the mechanic wondered how easily she forgave. 

Later he would learn that they agreed on a trade-off. As Sam had bought the house, Jess now had full control over the complete interior decoration. This, and the promise that he would never ever do something like this again.

Right now Dean watches Sam as he walks over to where Jess and Cas have set up the table. His brother puts down the chairs and pulls Jess into a tight hug. The affectionate move quickly evolves into a minor tickling fight that had her shrieking and giggling in seconds. It does not take much longer before the fake fight evolves into gentle kisses.

Dean gives the two lovebirds their private moment. He walks up to Cas who seems to find the fence of the neighbor incredible fascinating.

"It's a pretty nice place, huh?"

"Yes," Cas nods sedately. "Sam has made a sound choice."

All the while his eyes are fixed on a small bird that hops around on the wooden barricade. Dean joins him in his observation, his thoughts racing for something else to say. It takes all his courage to speak again.

"Makes you wonder where you're gonna end up, huh?" 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Cas turn his head towards him and Dean starts counting the tail feathers on the little bird. It was a lame try to get into that topic. 

"I don't know where I will end up", Cas says slowly keeping his eyes on Dean, "and to speak the truth, I don't really care about where." 

A strange feeling arises in Dean's chest. He has been staring at the same spot since Cas has answered not noticing that the bird has moved on. This has gotten his hopes up but he still fears the answer to his next question. 

"What you care about then?", he says finally looking at Cas. 

Into his eyes that seem so different from all the others. It is like only these two are able to see him. That they watch over him. And it is weird how this thought does not creep him out even a tiny bit. 

It is Jess who shouts for them to come and take a seat that keeps Cas from answering. Dean believes to see frustration in the man opposite him as he dutifully accepts the invitation and walks away. With little hesitation he follows his friend hearing bird wings flutter away behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*~
> 
> I wrote on this chapter for all in all about 4-5 months and I am still not pleased with some parts. The ending is pretty nice though, I guess. This chapter was due in May and I regret failing all the readers who have waited for the update. 
> 
> For those who wanna know why it took me so long here is the short story:  
> In the beginning of May I found a new flat and within 2 weeks I moved cities -> for the first time in my live I felt lost and homesick bc all my stuff was in boxes and I had no place to go back to -> in July I took my final exam ->there I meet a woman who offered me to work as a freelancer for her what I did on the side -> in August I took a second job at a production line. I hated that job with all my heart and quit after 3 weeks -> A month later in October I got a nice job at an insurance office. I started that job three weeks ago in mid November and I am pretty happy with it, since I have quite some spare time to write during my work. And my colleagues are nice so far. 
> 
> In mid October my lovely hunnybunny agreed on helping me to maintain a regular writing schedule (meaning to track that I would write for an hour a day) that has panned out good so far. 
> 
> for the next chapter all I can tell you is that there a chapter notes and I have started writing it a few days ago. I won't set a release date for it because I failed the last one so much. All I can tell you is that I will finish this fic no matter what.


	6. If I can’t help falling …

Dean wakes up covered in sweat, sitting upright in the dark. The used air tastes bad in his mouth as he breathes it panting heavily. It takes him a few seconds to figure out where the hell he is. A bed. His bed. In his room. His very own room. Not in a motel, not on a hunt. They are safe. Everyone is safe.

Dean almost jumps out of his skin when the door is ripped open. ‘That’s it’, he thinks, ‘I knew it. All this peace crap wouldn’t last. It never does.’

But instead of a monster, ready to shed him into pieces, a well-known figure stumbles into his room. “Dean?”

Hearing Cas’ voice, as worried as it sounds, gets him to inhale deeply and he lets out a long, relieved sigh. 

“I’m good, Cas”, Dean says with a voice that is far too shaky for his liking. “I just- it was just a dream.”

The mattress dips as his friend sits down. This dude still has to learn so much more about human decency and private space. Dean's throat feels sore and dry. Cas' presence may have a calming effect, but it also means that Cas has heard him having a nightmare. He looks down on his hands and watches them kneading the soft woven cover.

“Sorry, Cas, for waking you.”

Cas’ hand glides over his brushing past his palm. Then his fingers close around Dean’s and give him a light squeeze. When a thumb starts to rub over the top of his wrist, the former hunter is about to fling himself of a cliff. 

But it works. Partly. His heartbeat does not slows down a bit, but the adrenaline drains away together with his anxiety. Against all his expectations, having Cas so close and caring does not cause his heart to explode.

There are thoughts that suggest a few reasons why this is not a good thing. Although they lack enthusiasm and act only on behalf of a internal protocol. He is too tired to listen to any of them. Instead, Dean falls back into his bed.

The barrier he has put up is melting, and there is nothing he is going to do about it.

It feels like it is all but a dream.

\---

Dean tries not to think to much about last night the following day. Actually, his trailing thoughts find an abrupt end when his morning goes from bad to worse.

To be honest, Dean could not recall how he ended up in a heated argument. Suddenly he found himself in a situation where he had snapped at a customer. 

Half an hour later he was banned from the car service station and his boss had him tiding up the warehouse. For the rest of the day he lifted extra heavy tires and spare parts around. This turned out to be a harsher punishment than he first thought. 

In the evening his hands were covered in scratches, his back felt sore and so did his biceps. He was used to the hard labor around reparing cars, however, shifting heavy objects around for several hours on end takes its toll.

Normally, he showers at home but this time he was covered in not only oil but also dust that stuck to his sweaty skin and left him with a nasty feeling. The warm shower loosened his worked up muscles and he would have liked to indulge in it forever.

When he was cleaned up and dressed it knocked at the staff room door. “Winchester?”

Jeff, on of the other mechanics, entered the room after Dean signaled his okay.

“How is it going?”, his co-worker asks innocent.

Even among a mostly male staff gossip got its way round. Or maybe it was just the fact that his earlier outburst really got a lot attraction. And could be heard in the whole garage. Dean shrugged.

“Had to tidy up the warehouse.” He said along packing his dirty laundry in his bag. "Big boss said I should see it as a warning. Next time would be different." 

He stuffs away the last piece of his clothing and lifts up his crammed bag up. The pain in his upper arm muscles flares up again and he crunches his face. Just in time he manages to suppress making a pained sound.

“As I see, you take it like a champ”, his co-worker smirks.

“Had it coming, uh”, Dean replies grumpy.

“Maybe”, Jeff says in a more serious tone. “But I overheart most of it and the guy was a real asshole. So, just you know, I'm on your team here.”

Dean nods. “He was. But it doesn’t matter. Customer is king. Anyway, thanks Jeff.”

Jeff nods too and gets ready to leave. In the door he turns. “Friday is still a go?”

Dean gives him a thumbs up along with a poor attempt of a convincing grin. “Sure.”

\---

When Dean gets home finally Cas looks up from his paper work at the table and gives him a cheerful welcome. Since he has showered at the garage, the former hunter just face plants onto the couch after giving a nod to greet Cas back.

He just lays there. Fragments of his day mixed with nagging worries that just will not leave him keep him from relaxing. He reminds himself again get over Sam’s decision to stay here and move on. That he should work out what he plans to do with his own time left.

Here lies one of the biggest issues for him. He doesn’t know. All his life he had never thought about what he wants to do. All this time there has always been something there for him to do.

Taking care of Sam, saving people, hunting, stopping the goddamn apocalypse. He, of course, has fantasized about how it would be to lead an apple pie life, but so far it never had been the real deal. Dean would have never believed that figuring out what is next would ever be one of his problems.

After a while the rustling of some papers remind him that Cas is there. As comforting as his presence is, it also adds to the pile of stressful thoughts that Dean is apparently hoarding.

He turns his head enough to watch Cas collect his stuff and pack it into his bag. His eyes linger on the hands of his friend who holds a few sheets of paper seemingly counting them. 

Suddenly the hunter becomes aware of how late it has gotten. The already dim light that has illuminated the apartment has vanished. Now, only the bright floor lamp from the table brightens the part of the room Cas is sitting. The way his friend moves to put his assignment into his bag when he’s done Dean only see his shadowed profile. He zips up his bag and walks up to him.

As Cas becomes aware of the attention he’s given he smiles at him. Dean replies with a pout and a bit of a whiny noise, immediately regretting it. 

Dean presses his face back against the fabrics of the couch. What was he thinking? 

To be honest, not much, but he wants to be consoled, to be taken care of. And it is strong enough to overcome the resistance Dean has build up towards trusting anyone with how he feels.

Cas gets the hint anyway. With a soft tap on one of his legs he signs him to make room on the sofa. Dean doesn’t move at all. Or is to slow, however, Cas just grabs his legs, lifts them up and takes place below them. With his shins resting on Cas’ lap, Dean feels a bit out of place.

He turns around to lay on his back, this time careful not to whine. When he’s settled with one arm over his eyes. a deep sigh gets out before he can hold it back. He snatches a glance at Cas who just watches him, waiting for Dean to say something.

“Finished with that essay?”, Dean asks tired.

“Almost”, Cas replies hesitantly, “but it can wait. It's not due until next week.”

‘Nerd’, Dean thinks, ‘and another dude who takes care of his future ahead of time. Me 0 - rest of humanity 1.’

“How was your day?”, Cas says trying his best to sound casual.

Dean can feel a knot building up in his chest. He shuts his eyes under his arm. “It was a shitty day.”

“What happened?”, his friend says while laying his hand on Dean’s shin.

“Around 11, an asshole deluxe came in and brought his stupid car to me", Dean starts his rant. "While I looked at it he insisted on staying to watch me doing the first check on everything. All the while he was commenting how I apparently didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You know your way about cars very well.”

“Scumbag dude would beg to differ,” said Dean grumpy but a wave of gratification washed over him when he hears his friend’s praise. Even when he himself knew that he was a good mechanic, being told so by someone else is nice. The knot in his chest loosens up a bit.

And so Dean continues. He tells Cas about the rest of his day. How he snapped at the customer, the talk with his boss and his punishment. Cas listens without interrupting him. On occasions he gives his shin something between a pat and a petting.

“So, there’s that,” he ends feeling drained and empty. "A shitty day in the life of Dean Whinechester." 

"You are allowed to complain, I think. Isn't it normal to be upset when something like this happens?", Cas says ignoring Dean’s poor attempt of a joke. In a soft voice he adds, "I don't think this counts as whining." 

It takes some time before Dean is ready to give an answer. 

"Thanks, Cas", he says with a raspy voice that is hardly quivering. 

They fall back into comfortable silence. Cas’ hand now just rests on his leg, calming, anchoring him. Dean, who has told most of the story with closed eyes, feels like he is about to float away into dreamland. He jerks a little as Cas starts to talk.

 

“How about going on a road trip?", Cas suggests, "Just to get out of the city for a bit. Would this lift up your mood?”

“Depends", Dean murmurs. "What do you mean by ‘out of the city’?”

“Nothing big. A day trip to a nearby national park, for example.”

“And there we do what?”

“Maybe we could hike, or, maybe just look around for a bit”, Cas says.

Dean lifts his arm and throws him a look. “From where is this coming from?”

“My course went to Muir Woods on our last excursion with our professor. I found it quite relaxing to", he hesitates, " to be there. To be able to admire nature, I guess." His friend gulps and shots him a coy side glance. "And I thought, you would enjoy getting an opportunity to drive for a bit.”

Dean thinks about it for a moment before responding.

“That’s actually a really good idea”, he admits.

“Next Saturday?”, Cas says, “You and me to Muir Woods, alright?”

Dean hums sleepily. “I’m in.”

\---

“I’m out.”

Dean throws the cards on the table. Under the protest of his colleagues, he pushes back his chair and gets up to leave quickly for the kitchen. As soon as the door falls shut he picks up his vibrating phone.

“What’s up, buddy?”

“Hello Dean”, Cas replies, and elaborates on an instant. “I’m sorry to interrupt your poker evening but I would ask you to pick me up if it is not inconvenient.”

Dean's eyebrows perk up. It is rare to hear Cas’ voice with such an angry undertone.

“What happened? Aren't you with your college friends?”

Cas sigh is accompanied by the sound of Jeff entering the kitchen with the bowl in his hand. Dean makes room for him to get past and watches absently how he refills the snacks.

“Cas?”

“I’ll explain it later to you,” Cas replies, “okay?”

“Alright. You’re still at the cinema?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“No problem, Cas.”

After he hung up his colleague asks with a smirk, “Girlfriend?”

Dean, who has picked up his jacket from the counter next to the backdoor, pauses. “What?”

“Well, you seem to be very involved with who ever has just called you. You’re willing to jump and run as soon as you got the call,” his colleague explains all Sherlock. “I figured, you know, Cas, Cassandra,” he waves his hand, “it’s not that difficult.”

Dean lets this sink in. He is torn between laughing and feeling guilty for not being man enough to correct him. He finally huffs.“It is difficult, believe me.”

\---

 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again as he gets into the shotgun seat.

“It’s no problem, Cas”, he says switching on the turn signal, “they were getting grumpy about me winning too much anyway.”

After Dean has filtered back into traffic, he shots Cas a quick glance. His friend sighs. He knows better then to bug him with questions right away.

“I don’t get people”, Cas states out of the blue a few minutes later.

"How come?", Dean asks. Cas takes his time before going on. 

“Why do people lie to friends to - to make friends? It’s foolish. And pathetic.” Out of the corner of his eye Dean registers how his flat mate clenches his hand to a fist. “And even more offending when it’s such a blatant lie that it is exposed immediately. Don’t people ever think of somebody else’s feelings?”

Dean hums sympathetically. “Who lied to you?”

“A friend. Well, I thought she was a friend”, Cas snarls as Dean pulls into his usual parking spot, “Dacia.”

“The one that has the hots for you?!”, Dean asks with a fake smirk. In a pathetic effort to compensate for the rising jealousy in his chest he jokes, "Did she arrange a surprise wedding or something?"

“It’s not funny, Dean.” Cas snaps leaving the car. He slams the door so hard, Dean winces.

 

While cursing under his breath how much of an idiot he is, Dean fumbles with the seat belt. 

Cas has told him about her. This Dacia has asked him out for a few times weeks ago but his flatmate has declined every time. When Dean asked him why back then, Cas stared at him briefly before explaining that he was not interested in her in that way. 

Dean has not meet the person in question yet. However, every since, when Cas mentions her in one of his stories, he pictures a generic woman looking with heart eyes at his best friend. And he came to find that the more stories she appeared in the less he liked her.

He catches up to Cas up in front of the lift.

“Sorry, that was - I didn’t mean”, Dean stutters, “I’m sorry, Cas.”

His friend nods but keeps staring down the door. The lift arrives and they get inside. Dean turns to the man next to him who now is staring down the opposite side of the door, lips pressed together.

“What did she do?”, Dean asks finally just before the arrival pling disrupts the silence and they walk up to their apartment.

“She invited me to a group activity, told me she has set up a karaoke evening with some fellow students. As I turn up it’s only her and she tells me that everyone else has called of short handed. I believed her until one of the others send me a text inviting to go to the cinema with them. When I confronted her with it she confessed that she has set it all up to meet me alone. She actually said that it was my fault she had to do this because otherwise I would not have agreed to go on a ‘date’ with her.” 

Cas stops and shakes his head in irritation as Dean unlocks the door.

“This is not how dates work, right?”, he asks doubtful when they have entered their hallway.

“Eh, well, no. Not really”, Dean averts his head to avoid Cas' eyes and closes the door. He feels Cas gaze on him, waiting for further explanation but how could Dean tell him that is actually was a common thing. A romantic trope even. As Dean fails phrase this soon enough Cas speaks up again.

“To my understanding a date is when both sides agreed to meet up, knowing it will only be the two of them. When it’s clear that they choose a place where they can enjoy themselves together. Alone.”

Dean nods slowly. Sounds about right.

“And when they have shown romantic interest”, Dean adds.

“Then it’s a date, right?”, Cas insists.

“Pretty sure thing.”

Dean risks a glance up to Cas’ face. He still seems puzzled.

 

“Pretty sure?", he asks. "Is there still room for doubt even when all this is given?”

Dean sighs. Considering his success in that field he clearly is the wrong person to teach Cas about love and dating on planet Earth. 

“Look, Cas, humans and love is the most difficult combination there is. There are no rules, not really, and it differs from person to person”, he starts out, “it’s such a big thing because it’s never the same and - and because you can never be sure. You can only be sure about your own feelings, but not about somebody else’s.” He waves his hand. “And that’s basically the whole issue. If you could be sure about it, if you could meassure it or, like, confirm it somhow, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

He checks Cas’ face for signs of understanding. At least his eyebrows have returned to a normal state. With a soft voice Dean adds his conclusion.

“There is always doubt. So, yes, pretty sure is the most you’ll ever get.”

Cas’ shoulder slump indicating that he accepts this explanation. He takes a deep breath and turns towards his bedroom door, only to stop, remembering something. He turns to Dean again. 

“So tomorrow,” Cas says, “when are we gonna start?”

Dean suddenly remembers their plans for tomorrow. The trip to Muir Woods.

“I’d say at 8?”, he suggests. “Then, maybe, we’ll get out of the city before traffic sets in.” 

As Cas stares at him with a shy smile Dean feels an irrepressible suspicion that there is something he is missing. But before he can put his finger on it, Cas wishes him good-night and disappears his room.

Dean gazes at the door for a bit longer lingering on the feeling that something has slipped through without him noticing. Entranced he finally enters to his own room and gets ready for sleep. While crawling under the cover he recalls parts of the conversation as it dawns on him what the important thing is he has overlooked.

It is a date ‘when both sides agree to meet up’.  
Check.

‘Knowing it will only be the two of them’.  
Somehow it never occurred to Dean to invite someone else.

‘They choose a place where they can enjoy themselves together’.  
Hiking through the woods does undeniably fulfill this parameter.

‘They have shown romantic interest’.  
…

“Son of a bitch”, Dean whispers surprised into the darkness of his room, “it’s a goddamn date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~*~
> 
> First of all, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave a comment! 
> 
> I just looked and the last chapter was published 3 months ago. Dammit, time flies these days. At this rate I'll finish this fic in about 2-3 years, since I have planned it with 12 chapters X,x 
> 
> But I really want to finish what I started here. I can't stand unfinished fics myself and I would feel terrible knowing I produced one more, but then, I also hate it when the updates come in irregular and within very long stretches of time ... time to hide in my denial hole of shame. 
> 
> Lots of love to you.


End file.
